Something Borrowed
by no white horse for me
Summary: When you borrow something from someone, the right thing to do is give it back. Steve feels like he's borrowing Camille from the one boy her heart really belongs to. And it stings. Lomille Steve POV


**Aloha! I'm back home, which I'm happy about, but I just started school. Tear. anyway, so this is yet another Lomille one shot because they are my new favourite couple and i really desperately hope they get back together soon. And for all my readers of tick tock, please please please review because i need at least four reviews before i can post the next chapter! and PPF will be up soon, i swear to god. i have written part 1 of 'future' but i need to finish it! Remember, reviews make me happy.  
>HPloveofmylife<strong>

When you take something that isn't yours, you have to give it back.

When you borrow something, you must hand it back.

That was how Steve felt whenever he was on a date with Camille – like he was toying with something that wasn't his.

He knew Camille didn't like him. He could see it in her eyes.

But he knew who she _did_ love.

Logan Mitchell.

The perfect dream boy.

From a _boy band_, for God's sake!

Of course, Camille had given Steve a rundown on the two's relationship: we dated, we were in love, I kissed his best friend by accident, and we broke up. I'm totally over him.

It was a lie.

She wasn't over him.

Steve could see it in her eyes whenever her and Logan managed eye contact – her dark brown orbs lit up, as did his, and they both smiled almost a secret smile, like they were part of a group no one else knew about.

It made Steve sick.

Because, really, Camille and Logan had broken up: _Steve_ and Camille were dating.

Because, really, it was his turn. Logan had already had his, and failed miserably.

But Steve knew this wasn't true.

He would never have a chance to win Camille's heart, because she would never give him one.

He would never own Camille's heart, because that was Logan's job.

It sucked. Absolutely sucked.

But eventually, when Steve had had enough of being used by a girl who was still obviously in love with her ex-boyfriend (and he was obviously still in love with her), he pulled her aside one day at the Palmwoods pool and told her with finality:

'I can't do this anymore.'

'Why?' She had whispered, but he could see that she wasn't as hurt about this as he was.

'Because you don't love me like I love you.' He had told her with a tremor to his voice.

She didn't bother to deny it.

'You're in love with Logan. And that's fine. And he's obviously still in love with you. And he'll make you happier than I ever could have.' It ripped him to shreds to say those words, but it was worth it to see the small smile that lit her face as she reached up on tiptoes, kissed his cheek lightly, and flitted off toward a small Latino boy Steve knew as Carlos and another one with a gorgeous tan and wavy hair known as James – who were both friends with Logan.

When Steve got home that evening, he found a small note taped to his door with his name written in curly writing on it. He opened it up in the hall. '_Thank you for realizing what I should have told you. Camille xx_.'

It made him sick again.

At that same moment, Logan Mitchell, who had just arrived at apartment 2J, 3 floors below Steve and 2 below Camille, immediately stopped when he saw a note stuck on his door with 'Logan' written on it in writing Logan recognized immediately – he had seen it scribbled over so many script pages it wasn't even funny. He opened it.

'_Dear Logan_' was written at the top. '_Meet me down at the pool ASAP. I'll be in the furthest cabana.'_ There was a clatter as Logan's phone, sunglasses and wallet tumbled from his arms as he bolted to the stairs and ran down toward the pool.

He had barely stepped over the threshold of the 'world famous pool' before he was run at by a mob of brown curls and tackled to the ground, his lips attacked by lips that tasted of mint – a taste he knew and loved.

Camille.

'You came down.' Camille murmurs in his ear, and he nods, knotting his hands in her hair.

'Always, my princess.'


End file.
